


Worlds Apart

by Chessala



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Post-Canon, Angst, Canon Compliant, Developing Depression, F/M, Location - St. Petersburg, M/M, Reflection, Sports Injury, marriage problems
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-06
Updated: 2017-10-06
Packaged: 2019-01-07 10:17:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12230859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chessala/pseuds/Chessala
Summary: It wasn’t always easy coming back from the rink ever since Katsuki Yuuri had joined them a few weeks ago, his presence such a strong reminder of the relationship that had slipped away from Yakov so many years ago. It made him think of how it had all begun on the day he had seen Lilia Baranovskaya dance on stage and instantly fell in love.-----------------Some loves aren't meant to last, some of them just fade out after a while. As Viktor grows up, he watches Yakov and Lilia become more distant by the day - and promises himself that he will never be like that.





	1. The mistakes we make

**Author's Note:**

  * For [exile_wrath](https://archiveofourown.org/users/exile_wrath/gifts).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so excited for this exchange! I was horribly late in starting to write but I enjoyed the different take and I hope wrath felt like his prompt was fulfilled!
> 
> Also, a big thank you for [cryingoverspilledvodka](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cryingoverspilledvodka/pseuds/cryingoverspilledvodka) for allowing me to use details from her [The Boyfriend Experience](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9285461)'s notes!

The large wooden door fell into the lock, the sound echoing through the dark, narrow corridor in front of Yakov. He didn’t say a word, didn’t even switch on the light. He saw no need for it as the silence of empty rooms was the only thing greeting him when he came home to his too-large apartment in the centre of St. Petersburg.

Once upon a time, Yakov had dreamed of the sound of laughter filling the now-empty rooms, had wished to be greeted by small grabby hands and small feet running towards him. He had been young and naive then, believing that their life would work out if they both worked on whatever was wrong. Huffing, Yakov shrugged off his coat and abandoned it on the heavy oak chair near the door before going down the hallway and entering his study.

He didn’t bother switching the light on here either and went straight for the wooden cabinet near the window. It never stopped these days, the endless stream of cars that made the city buzz with life despite the late hour. Yet all that reached Yakov’s ears was the faint sound of engines rushing by, reminding him of the sound of silence that filled the air around him. Whenever the entrance door fell shut behind him, looking outside through one of the windows felt like looking at a different world, one that he wasn’t entirely sure he had ever been part of at all.

He tore his eyes away from the window, the glass pitcher sending a cheerful chime through the room as Yakov bumped the thick whiskey glass against it without much care. With a grunt, Yakov let himself fall into his chair on the other side of his working table, the leather creaking, sounding as tired as he felt. He filled the glass, probably a bit too much, and closed his eyes as the liquid ran down his throat, stinging as first gulps usually did.

It wasn’t always easy coming back from the rink ever since Katsuki Yuuri had joined them a few weeks ago, his presence such a strong reminder of the relationship that had slipped away from Yakov so many years ago. It made him think of how it had all begun on the day he had seen Lilia Baranovskaya dance on stage and instantly fell in love.

~~~~~~~~~

Thundering applause filled every inch of the Bolshoi Theatre but the only thing Yakov Feltsman could hear was the rushing of blood in his own ears. On the stage, the dancers gathered and bowed to the audience, their smiles lighting up the room as the tension fell off them after the successful performance. It was almost blinding and yet his eyes were fixed on one of the dancers in the middle as she wiped her tears away.

Looking at her made Yakov’s heart feel strangely tight, making it hard to breathe. The flowers in his hands suddenly felt wrong, their meaning lost in the bright light of Lilia’s smile, a smile he hadn’t seen in well over a decade.  Training, training, training, that was all he did. If it hadn’t been for his fall earlier that day, he wouldn’t be here now, watching his world shift and take on colour.

He still remembered running down the hill near their houses when Yakov had only been 9 and Lilia 5. Lilia had always loved dancing, even then, and her parents had been eager to support her passion. They had been proud to raise the next prima ballerina of the Bolshoi ballet. Yakov’s parents had soon pushed him to join ballet as well but while he enjoyed dancing, he didn’t feel the same passion for it that had been burning in Lilia’s eyes even then.

~~~~~~~~~

“You don’t like ballet?” Lilia asked, smile falling off her face. “You always look so upset.”

Yakov shrugged, letting himself fall back on the humid grass. He could feel the wetness soak his shirt.

“I like to dance but ballet is just so…” he paused, unsure how to express what he meant. “....boring.”

Lilia looked at him with a raised eyebrow, green eyes sparkling in the sunlight that peeking through the clouds. She tensed her body for a moment and jumped up, putting her body in the position of a perfect plié.

“But it’s so beautiful Yakov! How can you not love it?”

“It’s always the same! I just...there has to be more to it? It’s just not for me.”

He sighed, already knowing that she wouldn’t understand. Ballet was her life and Yakov felt like she was leaving him behind.

“You’re stupid, what else would you want to do?” Lilia asked while sitting down next to him again and fixing him with an inquisitive gaze.

“I want to….” Yakov started and closed his eyes. But instead of darkness, he saw a shining surface surrounded by a barrier. The chill coming from his shirt almost made him feel the cold of the ice. And in the middle, a single figure was slowly gaining speed for a jump. He could almost hear the scraping of the blades and the sharp sound they made when the figure took off. He opened his eyes again, blue locking with Lilia’s green ones. He had never said it before but he knew it to be true. “I want to do figure skating.”

~~~~~~~~~

Their lives separated after that day, meetings limited to curt nods and hesitant hellos as they both followed their path of choice. He knew she watched him perform even if she never said anything. Before every performance, his eyes would scan the audience until he found her familiar figure.

But he never watched her dance on the stage she loved so much and she never asked him to come, not directly. It felt like a silent agreement and Yakov was determined to stick to it even if they had never voiced it. Sometimes when he saw Lilia in the halls, she looked as if she was about to reach out. But before she did, her body tensed and she turned away. It always left him feeling colder than the ice ever could, the connection from years ago lying frozen in the rift they had formed with their own hands. And yet, despite nothing having changed between them, Yakov felt as if a ray of sun had suddenly started to melt the ice in his own heart.

When the dancers had left the stage and the room began to empty, Yakov felt himself release a breath he didn’t know he was holding. His lungs were burning but it wasn’t only air he was craving. His grip on the bouquet tightened even more and he found himself pushing through the crowd towards the exit, his movements a poor imitation of the circles they had been drawing around each other.

It all seemed so clear now, how stupid they had been all these years, how stupid he had been. How often had she asked him to watch her without words? But Yakov had looked away, had been too proud to admit that he wanted to see her dance. Now it felt like a door had been opened, one he had refused to open and all he could see behind it was her smile.

Finally, Yakov managed to push his way to the hallway, the people behind him continuing to stream out of the audience area. He looked around, the corridor stretching in front of him, mocking the distance that lay between them. He couldn’t leave without talking to Lilia, not again. So he took one step forward, the clicking of his shoes echoing louder on the polished floor the further the distance between him and the crowd.

The backstage entrance wasn’t empty as Yakov had hoped. Some of the dancers were already standing in front of it, chatting excitedly about the performance. Yakov looked at the group of people, suddenly feeling the urge to turn around. He hadn’t spoken to Lilia in years, had avoided watching her dance out of stubbornness. And yet he knew her performance today had been for him. How often had she danced for him, not knowing if he had taken the tickets his friends had so conveniently offered him, just to find out that he had not been there yet again. Would she even want to talk to him?

Yakov kept looking at the large door, cursing in frustration. He ran his hand through his hair, closing his eyes and turning around. Maybe this was a sign that he had waited too long, that he had lost her because of his own pride. He hardly noticed when he started to move away, flowers heavy in his hands.

“Yakov, wait!”

Yakov froze, hands shaking slightly. He would recognize Lilia’s voice anywhere, would never forget the slight pitch she gave to her sentences at the end. It had been years since he had heard her say his name, though, the vowels sounding clumsy in his ears even as he heard the urgency with which they had been spoken.

He slowly turned around, prepared to find Lilia scowling at him as she had been every time they had passed each other. But when he raised his eyes from the floor they had been fixed on, what he saw made Yakov forget to breathe. Lilia was radiant, her smile as brilliant as it had been on the stage. But this time it was directed at Yakov alone. Her hair, while still tied back tightly, started to come lose on the sides, framing her usually stern face with soft brown curls. Her cheeks were flushed but it wasn’t from exertion but from excitement, Yakov knew the difference well. Her hands were folded in front of her chest as if in prayer and while her eyes were hopeful, Yakov also saw the insecurity behind them.

The burning in his chest reminded Yakov to breathe again and when the oxygen flooded his lungs, he felt the fire that had been simmering in his heart come to live. He took a step towards her, grateful that the weakness he felt in his legs didn’t show as the distance between them seemed to finally decrease. When they were only a step apart, Yakov smiled at Lilia and held the bouquet towards her.

“You were wonderful, Lilia.” He wanted to tell her so much, wanted to apologize for his pride keeping them apart. And yet, all he managed to say were those few words, words that could have come from anyone. But it didn’t matter when he saw the tears he hadn't noticed before run down her perfect cheeks, leaving wet streaks behind as she took the flowers with shaking hands.

Lilia looked at the flowers for a moment before dropping them and closing the distance between them for good, pulling Yakov into a tight hug. Despite the noise around them, all Yakov could hear was Lilia’s voice when she spoke against his ear.

“You came. You finally came.”

“I did. I’m sorry.”

It was the most honest they had been with each other ever since that day when they were still children and Yakov hadn’t anticipated the pain that would come with it. Holding Lilia in his arms, her breath tickling his neck, was the most wonderful feeling. It felt as exhilarating as landing a new jump for the first time and at the same time, their embrace was as solid as the figures he skated every day. Being with her was like being out on the ice, familiar and yet completely new. He pulled her tighter, fingers ghosting through one of the curls falling down.

“And I won’t ever leave again.”

~~~~~~~~~

A deafening silence filled the room after the echo of her scream had disappeared. It only lasted a moment but it hurt Yakov’s ears more than the shocked gasps and screams that spread like a wildfire. On the stage, the dancers gathered around Lilia, trying to keep her from twisting in pain. He had seen it before it happened, had seen the shaking in her leg, the slight twist in her posture, all of it foreshadowing that she wouldn’t be able to land properly. And yet all he had been able to do was sit and watch it happen, praying that she would get up again. Instead, Lilia was lying on the floor, face twisted in pain as he eyes looked for Yakov in the audience.

Yakov knew what had happened and what it would mean for her future, he had seen it so many times on the ice. When their eyes finally met, Yakov was already on his feet and running to the stage, his footsteps barely making a sound on the thick carpet that had been spread on the floor not long ago. But even when he reached the edge of the stage, she was still so far away from him, no matter how much they stretched their hands towards each other. One of the male dancers extended his hand, helping Yakov to climb the stage so he could be with his wife. He nodded his head towards him in silent thanks and kneeled down next to Lilia, taking her hand in his, his wedding band shining in the stage light.

Ushers had started to lead the audience out of the room, declaring the performance as finished long before it should have been. Lilia’s eyes wandered to the people leaving the room and angry tears filled her eyes. Not being able to finish was the worst for any performer. It meant not being able to express all the work and feelings you put into it. It meant that the work of months had just been ripped from your hands in a single instance. Yakov knew that Lilia hated herself right now. More than just dancing, Lilia loved to make people feel what she put into her performances, loved to pull them into her ever-moving world. All that had been taken from her with a single, cruel twist of fate.

Yakov stayed with her when she was carried off the stage by paramedics, didn’t let go of her hand on the ride to the hospital and refused to leave her side while she was being examined in the hospital. Yakov didn’t believe in miracles. He knew that an injury of the magnitude she probably suffered would mean the end of her career at the age of only 32. Yakov had retired several years ago, his body unable to keep up with the demands of a professional skating career. He had been sad but also satisfied, knowing that he had wrapped up his career at his own pace. But while sitting in the hospital, listening to the doctor, he couldn’t help hoping for one of those miracles that he didn’t believe in.

It didn’t help, the prognosis was grim and while he held on tight to Lilia, he could feel her body losing all tension as she started crying. She knew it was over and her quiet sobs sounded worse than the scream that had filled the theatre, it broke his heart in ways that his own retirement never did. She was still holding on to Yakov’s hand but it didn’t feel the same anymore and it left him with a sinking feeling in the back of his mind.

Lilia still tried all she could to change the outcome. She made sure to rest her leg and diligently followed her rehabilitation plan, hoping against hope that she would be able to return to the stage. It didn’t work. Only 9 months after her fall, she had to retire from her position as the prima ballerina. That day, she announced her retirement with her head held high and a smile on her face. But Yakov could see the cracks on her mask, could see that her heart was broken beyond repair. It was then that the nagging he had felt in the back of his head for the last months turned into fear.

~~~~~~~~~

They had never spoken about children, the idea alone seemed impossible as it would put too much strain on Lilia’s body considering her career. Yakov hadn’t always known if he was satisfied with that arrangement but it had been something he had accepted because he loved her and he had never regretted it - until Lilia was forced to retire.

Their apartment in the centre of St. Petersburg had always been a place where they would wake up in the morning, wrapped in each other's arms and with a smile on their faces. It had been the place where they kissed goodbye before going to training and it had been the place they returned to in the evening to intertwine their days and share what had happened.

Now, Lilia was gone most mornings when Yakov opened his eyes, having fallen into bed only a handful of hours before after drinking too much. It became the place where Yakov waited for Lilia to return to after he had wrapped up the last training session of the day with one of his students. They would still sit together at the heavy oak table and share their dinners, awkward small talk filling the silence that would otherwise spread between them.

They still loved each other, still enjoyed each other’s company. But smiling didn’t come easily to them anymore. Where they would have shared a private joke before, knowing smiles dancing on their lips, they now avoided sharing details that were too deep, too personal.

Yakov knew that, in her heart, Lilia had never fully accepted her forced retirement. While she had started working as a ballet instructor after having been asked to do so, it just wasn’t the same. She put her whole heart into the new work. She was strict but fair and Yakov saw more than one young dancer come into bloom under her wings. But with her heart broken, there was always a piece that just didn’t fit with her not being the one that danced on the stage. It was like watching a skater try to conquer the ice with blunt blades. They would try but they would always be held back, would fall too much to be satisfied with their own performance.

In those days, Yakov wished they had considered having a child to bridge the rift that was between them once again. It was for all the wrong reasons, he knew. And yet he couldn’t help wishing for it. Yakov longed for the silence around them to be filled with laughter again.

~~~~~~~~~

“My name is Viktor Nikiforov, it’s nice to meet you Mr. Feltsman!”

The boy looked up at Yakov, his blue eyes clear and full of excitement at the new adventure he was about to begin. Even at the tender age of 7, his hair was so pale that the sunlight shining through the windows made it look almost like silver. Yakov bent down and ruffled the boy’s hair, a smile playing around his lips.

“It’s nice to meet you, Viktor. I’ll just talk to your father for a moment, why don’t you put on your skates and warm up?”

Viktor nodded eagerly and dashed off to the benches, tiny skates bouncing on his back. Yakov sat down with the man that had brought Viktor, talking him through the requirements and expectations he had to take on his son as a student. While his hair wasn’t as pale as Viktor’s, his eyes had the same striking tone of blue. Talking to him really was only formality as Yakov had already seen the talent that slumbered in Viktor, had seen the latent capabilities that were just waiting to be pulled out. But even more important than that was the love for skating Yakov could see in him. And more than that, he was being raised by parents that loved and supported him. While it seemed like a small thing, Yakov knew how much of a difference feeling love could make for a child’s development. Viktor’s technique was still crude but that was something he would work on. His ability to express all the love around him, however, had only developed because of the support he had received. So for the first time in a decade, it was Yakov that had reached out to Viktor’s parents to train him.

The paper signing was quick and after Viktor’s father had left, Yakov turned to the ice, watching Viktor make his rounds to warm up. He hoped Viktor had enough endurance to see the training through. Yakov had the feeling that if he did, Viktor would reach places that no Russian skater had reached yet.

As time passed, Yakov was relieved to see that Viktor did more than meet his expectations, he exceeded them. Yakov found himself spent more time at the rink training Viktor than going home to his and Lilia’s apartment. They would still see each other several times a week but with both of them being gone constantly, it felt more and more like their lives were just slipping past each other.

Training Viktor, seeing him get better every day, almost allowed him to forget about that. Days turned into weeks, then months and, finally, years. By the time Viktor was 11, Yakov sometimes didn’t see Lilia for days in a row. Either because she was sleeping when he came back and gone when he got up, or because she was traveling to be by the side of one of her proteges. On days when he didn’t have training to distract him, Yakov told himself that they were just being busy. Training the country’s future was important and could not be taken lightly, this was as true for dancing as it was for ice skating.

But at the end of a training day, when Viktor was being picked up by one of his parents, Yakov could feel the loneliness creep back in. He knew he would go home alone and find their apartment empty. He had tried to mend her heart for a while until it became clear that she couldn’t let go of the pain. It had hurt Yakov to accept it, more than he liked to admit even to himself. But how could he help Lilia if she couldn’t let go of her pain? It was better to accept it and try to be comfortable with each other than to fight a lost battle. This wasn’t like the distance that had been created by both of them in their childhood. Yakov knew this was a rift he had no hope of ever closing. All he could hope for was for them to not drift even further apart. He didn’t know what else to do.

“Papa and Mama are late…”

The sound of Viktor’s voice pulled Yakov out of his thoughts as he hadn’t expected him to still be here, not on his birthday. He frowned and sat down next to Viktor, ruffling his hair in his by-now familiar gesture.

“I’m sure they’ll be here soon, maybe there is a lot of traffic.”

Viktor’s hair now easily reached over his shoulders and the teen absentmindedly started playing with it, a pout on his face.

“They said we would go to a restaurant. Papa never is late.”

That was true. In the last years, Yakov couldn’t remember a single day when Viktor’s parents had arrived late. It was more common for them to arrive earlier and watch their son, cheering him on from the sideline. So having them arrive late was something that made Yakov uneasy. It felt like a bad omen. Viktor would soon start training in preparation for his very first Junior Grand Prix series. He wouldn’t be able to join in the coming year, but after his 13th birthday in a year, they would be working on his program so he had the best start possible.

They listened to the ticking of the wall clock nearby, talking about Viktor’s training occasionally. Yakov had never been good at small talk and while Viktor had a rather bubbly personality, he tended to withdraw when he was hurt and upset. It usually only happened when he couldn’t complete one of the goals of their training sessions. Viktor could be surprisingly ambitious when he felt that he wasn’t progressing the way he should, a trait that Yakov thought was very useful and very inconvenient at the same time. Mostly because Viktor’s understanding of ‘enough progress’  didn’t always match with Yakov’s. There had been more than one occasion when they had clashed because Viktor wanted to do a jump that his body wasn’t ready for yet. Of course, that hadn’t kept him from trying anyway.

Yakov’s eyes wandered to the clock and he frowned when he saw that it was close to 9 pm. While a delay was already unusual, 2 hours seemed a bit too much to push it on traffic. Next to him, Viktor had started to doze off against his shoulder and Yakov couldn’t help but feel uneasy at how fragile Viktor looked. Unable to quell the voice in the back of his head, Yakov pulled his mobile phone from his pocket and was about to dial when it started ringing. He hurried to pick up, an impending sense of doom making the hairs on the back of his neck stand.

“Feltsman,” Yakov said, voice low in an attempt to keep Viktor from waking up.

“Mr. Feltsman, I’m glad I could reach you. I’m from the _Mariinsky hospital_. You are being listed as emergency contact for Alexei and Galina Nikiforov, is that correct?”

Yakov felt his throat tightening as he pressed out a small  _ ‘yes _ ’. Next to him, Viktor was stirring and he silently implored the boy to sleep just a bit longer.

“Mr. Feltsman, I’m calling to let you know that Alexei and Galina Nikiforov have unfortunately passed away at 8:29 pm today due to the injuries they sustained in an accident.”

Suddenly the air around him was filled with white noise and his eyes wandered to Viktor again, whose blue eyes were looking at him sleepily now.

~~~~~~~~~

When Yakov closed the entrance door, he was surprised to find that he wasn’t alone in the apartment. He had sent Lilia a message from the hospital, letting her know what had happened as he always did when something out of the ordinary happened. She usually didn’t reply and this hadn’t been an exception but when Yakov looked down the corridor, he could see light from the guest room and the smell of homemade Borscht came from the kitchen.

As if on queue, Viktor’s stomach started to growl and Yakov helped him to take off his jacket and shoes, leading him to the kitchen. He hadn’t spoken since they had come from the hospital and Yakov didn’t try to make him. He had expected Viktor to cry and scream when he heard about what had happened to his parents but instead, Viktor had just quietly looked at Yakov with empty eyes and told him that he was hungry. Yakov hadn’t hesitated and sent the message to Lilia before guiding Viktor out of the hospital. He had known Viktor long enough to know that while it wasn’t obvious on the outside, he was devastated.

Once in the kitchen, he pointed to a chair and went to the stove. Lilia had already put a plate out so all Yakov had to do was scoop up some of the Borscht. He put it in front of Viktor and sat down next to him, trying his best to smile.

“Eat as much as you want.”

Viktor nodded and took the spoon, hands trembling slightly as he put some of the food in his mouth and mumbled a faint  _ ‘it’s good’ _ . Yakov watched him eat, looking up as Lilia came into the room and sat down next to Yakov. She silently took his hand under the table and squeezed it, filling Yakov with relief. In times like these, they didn’t need any words. He knew that with her squeeze, she let him know that she was alright with Viktor staying with them, a question he hadn’t even asked yet. He smiled a little and cleared his throat before turning to Viktor.

“This is my wife Lilia, Vitya. She has prepared the guest room and you can stay as long as you want with us.”

Viktor put down his spoon and looked at Lilia, nodding courteously.

“I’m Viktor Nikiforov, it’s nice to meet you Mrs. Feltsman.”

It was so similar to the way he had introduced himself to Yakov all these years ago and yet it couldn’t have been any more different.

“You can call me Lilia, Viktor. Do you like the Borscht?” Lilia asked with a softness in her voice that Yakov hadn’t heard in years.

Viktor nodded and as if to demonstrate that he really did, he ate another few spoons full, emptying his plate and lifting it to ask for seconds. Lilia took the plate from his hand and refilled it before placing it back on the table. Viktor nodded at her again and continued eating in silence.

After the meal, Yakov found an old pajamas top for Viktor and sent him to the bathroom to wash and get changed. Yakov went back to the kitchen, falling into the chair heavily.

“He is a good boy,” Yakov said more to himself than to Lilia, who was preparing the rest of the Borscht to go to the fridge.

“He is,” she answered, sitting down next to Yakov again. “And he will need time to get over losing his parents. He seems calm now but he will need you, Yakov. You’re the closest to him now.”

Yakov nodded and sighed deeply, burying his face in his hands. At 55, he had long given up on having a child. He couldn’t even remember the last time the thought had crossed his mind. Instead, he had focused all his energy on training other people’s children.

“He’ll need both of us, Lilia. Do you think we can do it? We have hardly even seen each other for years now.”

The words hung in the room, tainting the air around them. They both knew it was true but they had made the decision to ignore it. Getting a divorce these days would have been easy, not like in the old days. But neither of them had even considered the possibility.

“Maybe we can try again?” She said, something close to hope in her breaking voice. “Maybe we can try again, for him.”

Yakov nodded, closing his eyes for a moment. Viktor needed them and maybe, just maybe, that also meant that they had a second chance to feel the happiness they once knew again. It’s all Yakov dared hoping for as he pressed a gentle kiss to Lilia’s hand, right over the wedding band she still wore every day.

It wasn’t easy to find a rhythm at first. Both of them were used to going around on their own without paying much attention to anyone else. But now they needed to ensure to have a proper breakfast together with Viktor and see him off to school. Where before all Yakov had to pay attention to was Viktor’s training, he now had to care for his education and general well-being as well. From time to time, child protection services were checking in with them to make sure that Viktor was well taken care of. Surprisingly, none of his blood-related relatives had shown any interest in taking the teenager in, making the process easier for all of them.

After all of Viktor’s belongings had been brought to their apartment, the guest room was permanently turned into Viktor’s room. Yakov wasn’t sure if it would make a difference for him but the morning after the change, Viktor stepped out of the room, the smile Yakov had known for years back on his face as he hugged first Lilia and then Yakov, thanking them.

After that, Yakov actually felt like everything had fallen into place. It wasn’t perfect, but it  _ worked _ . They spent the morning and evening together, making small trips whenever their schedules allowed them to. It was strange to spend so much time together at first but it also filled Yakov with a peace he hadn’t felt for a long time. It felt like he finally had the family he had always wished for. At least for a while, until Yakov noticed that some rifts couldn’t be closed by trying alone.

For several months, Yakov and Lilia made an effort to regain the closeness they used to have before Lilia’s accident. Conversation was usually easy when Viktor was around, giving both of them an anchor to each other and the teenager. When they ran out of things to say, Viktor would close the gap almost naturally, always babbling about something that had happened. Yakov didn’t think much about that habit despite the fact that he hadn’t been like that in training before.

But at night, when they lay alone next to each other, Yakov could still feel the distance between them, pulling them apart bit by bit. The gaps in their conversations became longer and longer until Viktor was the only one keeping the silence from taking over their house.

In an attempt to keep Viktor happy despite the uneasiness that was slowly creeping into every angle, they gave in to Viktor’s wish for a dog as long as he promised to take care of it properly. Soon after, the happy barking of a poodle that Viktor named Makkachin echoed through the house, adding another layer of sound to protect them from the silence.

It almost came as a relief when Lilia started to traveling with her company again. It freed Yakov from the responsibility of simply being together. He hadn’t noticed just how much trying to make their relationship feel comfortable drained him. It made Yakov realize that while they tried, they really didn’t have anything in common anymore.

It wasn’t like he hated Lilia, he still loved her in a way but it wasn’t the same love that had connected them before. It was the kind of love you would feel for a friend that you are not close enough to, to actually spend time together. The realization didn’t hurt as much as he had expected it to. Yakov had accepted that they had lost the bond they had shared once long ago, this was just the next step to take.

If there was anything Yakov resented, it was that Lilia had never managed to let him fill the hole that dancing had left in her heart. He had seen others, skaters and dancers alike, having to retire prematurely because of an injury and yet they all had found new sense in their life. Lilia didn’t need to let that loss reign her whole existence. Yakov had seen the joy it brought her to see her students up on the stage, had seen her cry tears of joy after a successful performance. And yet, it had never been enough to really satisfy her. A part of her had always remained in the past and that part had driven them apart.

And all Yakov was now left with was a jigsaw puzzle with ill-fitted pieces. He knew Viktor was another odd piece trying to hold a picture together that he was barely fitting in himself. Sometimes Yakov caught the look Viktor had when he looked at both of them, saw the fear in his eyes. And while he wasn’t sure what exactly Viktor was afraid of, he knew it had to do with them and the ever-growing distance between him and Lilia.


	2. The lessons we learn

Viktor had decided to lock his pain away when the room he stayed in was no longer called the guest room but instead was now Viktor’s room. It still hurt and he missed his parents but when he looked at Yakov and Lilia, he could see the worry in their eyes. They had given him a new home when he had lost his place to be and he didn’t want to be more of a burden than he had to.

So the following morning, Viktor smiled at them and hugged them tightly, vowing to himself that he wouldn’t make them worry again, no matter what happened. When Yakov had still only been his coach, Viktor had sometimes imagined that despite his grumpy face, he returned to a warm home with his family greeting him as soon as he opened the door. Coming into a silent apartment, despite the smell of food spreading everywhere, had shown him that his thought had been nothing but wishful thinking.

Viktor had always liked Yakov. While he shouted often and rarely laughed, Yakov had always been a good coach to Viktor, pushing him exactly where he needed to be pushed at exactly the right times. Viktor wanted Yakov to be happy but he could feel that something just wasn’t right from the moment he entered his house. Despite the smell of food and the light illuminating the hallway, Viktor could see the dust on some of the door handles, indicating that no one in the house used the rooms. He had also sensed the surprise in Yakov when they had entered though he wasn’t sure why exactly he had been surprised.

It didn’t take long for him to find out that Yakov and Lilia weren’t as close as they wanted him to believe they were. While Viktor could see the effort they made to make him feel at home, the distance between them was almost tangible. It was easy to ignore at first as they tried to avoid showing it as much as possible. But as the months went by, Viktor had to talk more and more to bridge the gaps in their conversations until he was the only one left with something to say.

Viktor tried looking at it as a game at first, a game to make sure that they kept talking despite there being nothing to say, just so that they wouldn’t sit in silence. When that got too painful, however, Viktor asked for a companion, a dog, that would help him keep the silence away as much as possible.

It took surprisingly little convincing for Yakov and Lilia to give in to his request. All he had to do was promise that he would take good care of her, a promise that he intended to keep. Having Makkachin nearby sometimes allowed Viktor to forget that when he came home after a long day of school and then training with Yakov, all he had to look forward to was trying to think of new topics to talk about. Instead, he could now take Makkachin for a run. No matter how tired he was, he took her out every evening and often stayed out long past his bedtime.

When Lilia started traveling again because of her work, Viktor wasn’t entirely sure if he felt sad or relieved. On one hand, he missed having her around, missed the time she would spend caring for and braiding his hair. But on the other hand, he had started to loathe the feeling of distance whenever Yakov and Lilia were in the same room together.

It wasn’t that they actively avoided each other. They were always cordial and focused their attention on Viktor as much as possible. But despite that, there just seemed to be something missing, something that had always been there with his parents and that had made him feel safe and content. Instead, Viktor felt like looking into a void, desperately grabbing for somewhere to hold on to while getting lost more and more.

As time went by, Viktor made it a habit to spend as little time as possible at home. It was easy to tell Yakov that all he wanted was to train a bit longer. While Yakov wouldn’t allow it when Viktor was younger, he became more lenient the older Viktor became. On those days, Viktor would just circle the ice in never-ending loops until he was sure that Yakov and Lilia were sleeping already. When he came home, he would always find a snack prepared for him. It never failed to make him feel guilty.

Viktor told himself that he didn’t want to avoid them but rather the oppressive feeling that came with spending time together. He could handle each of them on their own, even enjoyed their company sometimes. But in the end, he could never feel completely free with them either.

The worst times were when it was all three of them together, sitting around the heavy wooden table in the kitchen. Each of them would make an attempt to talk about their days but in the end, Viktor would be the only one talking, hands clenched into fists under the table. And the older Viktor got, the worse the situation became. By the time he was 17, neither Yakov nor Lilia could hide the unhappiness that was surrounding the air around them anymore.

It showed with small things at first, smiles falling off them when one or the other entered the room, greetings turning into courteous nods instead. Yakov had never been someone that talked more than necessary but even his few conversations with Viktor outside of training seemed to become less. While Yakov had always carried himself proudly, Viktor could notice the now slumped shoulders and the gradual loss of hair, leaving the top if his head mostly bald.

Sometimes, Viktor felt like the unhappiness at home was seeping into his bones and tried to choke him from within. He cared about Yakov and Lilia but seeing them this way was taking his breath away in all the wrong ways. On days when long training sessions weren’t an option, Viktor went to parties instead, hooking up with random people just to avoid having to spend the night in his room surrounded by deafening silence.

He knew Yakov didn’t approve of this kind of behaviour, had made it sufficiently clear in the lectures that seemed to become more and more frequent. Viktor almost enjoyed those lectures since they meant that he wasn’t the one that needed to keep the conversation alive. For once, all he had to do was lean back and listen, letting the sound of Yakov’s voice drown out the silence he had started to dread so much.

~~~~~~~~~

When Viktor was 18, he knew he couldn’t stay in Yakov’s house any longer. The realization was so small that it almost felt trivial, like something Viktor had known for a long time anyway. He had known for a long time that he wouldn’t stay with Yakov forever, that was just the way these things went anyway. By then, Yakov and Lilia had stopped talking to each other entirely, always shifting past each other as if the other was merely an obstacle that needed to be avoided. And maybe that was exactly the way it was.

Viktor hated it. It left him standing in the middle with nowhere to turn to, no one to confide in. On some days, he felt the loneliness chipping away on his soul so much that not even Makkachin could distract him it. On those days, Viktor buried his face in the poodle’s fur and tried to will the world away. He knew that what was happening wasn’t his fault and yet Viktor wondered if his presence made the situation that much worse to endure anyway.

“I want to move out,” Viktor said one day during breakfast while avoiding to look at Yakov

Yakov looked at Viktor from behind is raised coffee cup, the familiar frown appearing on his face. The hollow sound of the cup being placed back on the wooden table echoed through the kitchen for a moment, followed by Yakov clearing his throat.

“Why?”

Viktor didn’t know what he had expected. Maybe he had been hoping for Yakov to get angry about this as much as he sometimes did when Viktor made a mistake during training. Instead, his simple question was now hanging in the room, daring Viktor to tell the truth. It felt like a challenge, one only Viktor could see. Closing his eyes, Viktor put on his well-practiced smile and shrugged before looking directly at Yakov.

“I’m almost 19, I want to live my own life. You and Lilia have taken care of me long enough.”

Viktor was proud how easy the words fell from his lips, how nonchalant he sounded despite his heart beating so fast that he could feel it in his throat. Yakov’s chair creaked when he leaned back and took in Viktor’s expression, frown deepening even more.

“We told you, you can stay as long as you want.”

 _But I don’t want to stay anymore!_ That was what Viktor wanted to say, what every fibre in his body screamed at him. He opened his mouth but no words came out, leaving him to look like a fish gasping for water to breathe. Viktor looked to the side, breaking eye contact with Yakov as if he was afraid that he would be able to read his thoughts. Sometimes Viktor thought that Yakov could do exactly that, read him like an open book.

“I just want my own place and I have enough money by now.”

The words felt hollow to Viktor, not carrying the conviction he felt inside himself. It’s not like he was lying to Yakov. He did want to get his own place, didn’t want to worry about getting lectures for coming home too late anymore. His career was moving forward nicely too so there weren’t any financial issues. Viktor liked to spoil Makkachin sometimes but he didn’t spend a lot of money otherwise.

Yakov looked pensive for a moment, taking in Viktor fully for the first time in what felt like years. Not only as the skater he trained but also as the man he had become. For a moment, Viktor thought that Yakov would tell him he couldn’t move out, that he wasn’t mature enough to take care of himself. But instead, Yakov’s shoulders slumped a bit more and he grunted his agreement.

“I’ll help you look for a place near the rink.”

It was too easy, the way Yakov just decided that the argument wasn’t worth it and gave up. It was one of the traits Viktor had never understood, one that made him embrace the fire he felt burning inside him. Viktor never just gave up, not before he had exhausted all possibilities to get to his goal first. It was almost like learning a new jump when the ice was more below his face than his blades still. Viktor wondered if Yakov had just given up when he was still a skater too, if he had just pushed the jump out of his mind and moved on to the next goal he could achieve. Maybe that was why he had never fought the silence between him and Lilia.

~~~~~~~~~

On the day Viktor moved out, both Lilia and Yakov took a day off to help him pack. Viktor really wished they hadn’t. While it made the work faster, it also put an air of finality over the house. As books and clothes disappeared in the boxes, Viktor was reminded of the same thing happening 7 years ago. Despite the grief that had threatened to swallow him then, packing had felt like a relief. It had allowed him to leave the life he had lived until then behind him, forever lost. It felt strangely twisted that the move now felt exactly the opposite. He was packing and leaving to escape a life in the dark, surrounded by the people he loved but that were unable to love each other. And yet, it felt like their ghosts were clinging to him even as he prepared to run.

Would he be able to run far enough to not hear the silence echoing in his ears anymore? Viktor had already tried to chase them away, had tried so hard to escape just to be thrown back when he lost his footing. Even in his new apartment, he could see Yakov’s shadow following him home after training, could see him fill the empty spaces with his presence.

So Viktor had made sure to keep his apartment as open and modern as possible, the exact opposite of Yakov’s and Lilia’s classic decoration. Where their wall were lined with vintage pictures in golden frames, Viktor had opted for modern photos behind frameless glass. Where their furniture were massive wood, Viktor had filled his place with a comfortable couch, modern closets and tables and a stainless steel kitchen. When he looked at his apartment, he saw nothing of what he saw when he entered Yakov’s home. Everything was the opposite.So why was it, when he closed the door after all the boxes had been dropped off, that he could still only see Yakov’s and Lilia’s apartment behind his closed eyes?

A sudden knock on the door startled Viktor out of his thoughts and he forced himself to cross the distance to the door, opening it even though he already knew who was behind it. With a smile he didn’t feel, he gestured Yakov and Lilia to enter before closing the door again.

“We thought you would like to have some dinner, I made Borscht.”

Lilia placed a container with the familiar red liquid on the kitchen counter and Viktor couldn’t keep his throat from tightening. One of his better memories with them had always been Lilia’s home-made dinners. Her Borscht reminded him so much of the one his mother used to make and it had soon become one of his favourite dishes. Viktor went to one of the closets where he had already stored the brand-new dishes and pulled out three plates. He placed them on the table and added spoons before sitting down as well.

They had their meal in silence, the only sound being the clicking of metal spoons against porcelain. Viktor knew they didn’t have anything to say, had nothing to share that they didn’t know. It made Viktor itch to start talking again, to fill the room with anything that wasn’t the lack of conversation between them. But he knew by now that when he stopped, the sound of voices would stop with him and make it feel even worse.

After they finished, Viktor agreed with Yakov to use the next day to finish unpacking and that he would return to training the day after that. He gave both of them a tight hug, thanked them for taking care of him for those past 7 years and then watched them leave. Maybe it was just his imagination, but with his leaving, it felt like even the last bridge between Yakov and Lilia had been burned.

As Viktor looked through the window and watch them turn to different direction in front of his building's entrance without as much as a word, Viktor promised himself that his life would be different. Watching them drift further and further apart had hurt him for years but it was only now, when he finally separated his world from theirs, that he realized the wounds their distance had carved into his soul.

Viktor closed his eyes and turned away from the window. Their life wasn’t his, he could and would be different. He would never let the silence swallow the conversation between him and the person he wanted to be with most. And while Viktor hadn’t met that person just yet, he already knew that he would never just give up on them. Maybe it was desperate to cling to the small hope he carried in his chest, but Viktor was afraid that if he didn’t, there was nothing left for him to hold on to.

~~~~~~~~~

Viktor had thought cutting his hair was more than just leaving his past behind. It was supposed to be a new beginning, the entry to a happier life. But while he had left the cascade of silver on the floor, the shadows kept sticking to him still, following him wherever he went, wearing him thinner by the day.

The only time when he could forget about the shadows was when he was on the ice, the crowd cheering for him while the brightness of the stage lights didn’t leave room for them to have a hold on Viktor’s heart, at least for a few minutes. And even after his performance ended, he could use the attention he received to forget about them just a little longer. The smiles came easily by now, trained masks he slipped on whenever they were needed. Sometimes, Viktor could even convince himself that he was happy in those moments. But when the door closed behind him at home and the only one greeting him was Makkachin, Viktor could do nothing but bury his face in her fur again and pull her close, reminding himself how it felt to not be alone.

While gold medals piled in a corner of his house, one more prestigious than the other, Viktor felt himself losing the hope he had clung to for so long. At 26, Viktor had reached everything he could have ever hoped for and more in his career. And yet, he felt like he was getting lost more and more, chained down by the expectations the audience had. Every year, it had gotten more difficult to find something to impress them with, his inspiration fading with the light of hope within him.

So what would happen if the next season was his last? He didn’t have anyone to come home to but the audience and the press would remember him for a while, wouldn’t they? They would keep him busy until he finally found what he was looking for. It was just a random thought but as time passed and he had to start working on his programs for the new season, it took root within him.

He had promised himself that he wouldn’t give up on the person he loved before, but he had yet to find that person. So who was he fighting for when he was alone anyway? Viktor didn’t know anymore, was only reaching into the void when he tried to find his reason to keep fighting. So he decided that his last fight would be a scream into just that void, a prayer to the person he was looking for, imploring them to find Viktor and never let him go again.

~~~~~~~~~

The light of the rising sun bathed the bridge in St. Petersburg into a soft glow, slowly chasing the morning fog away. Next to Viktor, Yuri Plisetsky was typing away on his phone while stifling a yawn. In a way, Viktor felt like he was watching himself, even though they had so little in common.

“What are you looking at, old man?” Yuri huffed, rolling his eyes at Viktor without even lifting his head. He locked his phone and let it slide into the pocket of his jacket while propping one of his legs against the fence. It was already April but the air around them was still cold, their breath forming white clouds in front of them. Viktor was about to open his mouth and say something when the sound of familiar footsteps and Makkachin’s bark pulled his attention away.

Not too far away, Yuuri was running towards them, Makkachin by his side. Even from the distance, Viktor could see the redness of his ears and the blinding smile that lit up his face when he saw them waiting for him. Despite all the months they had already spent together, seeing Yuuri never failed to make Viktor’s heart beat faster. He briefly wondered if Yuuri felt the same, the old fear flaring up as it did every now and then.

Being with Yuuri hadn’t always been as easy and comfortable as it was now. When Viktor had arrived in Hasetsu, just being near Yuuri had been a challenge. No matter how much Viktor pushed, Yuuri never seemed to want to think about the time they had shared in Sochi. Viktor hadn’t understood why then and the thought of Yuuri keeping a distance from him had been painful. It had taken time and a lot of falls for them to finally, finally, find their way to being together.

But even then, it hadn’t always been smooth sailing. While Viktor tended to withdraw from time to time, Yuuri was a complete enigma to him. At the beginning, that had been what had triggered Viktor’s fears. Whenever he tried to talk to Yuuri, Yuuri had pulled back, leaving Viktor with his thoughts and worries. It made Viktor want to bridge the gap between them, just like he had tried for so many years in Yakov’s house. So Viktor would talk away, sometimes for hours, making sure they had just enough room to breathe.

It had taken him months to learn that Yuuri wasn’t quiet because he had nothing to share with Viktor, didn’t try to avoid Viktor because he was tired of having him around. But even though he knew that now, he couldn’t help the small voice that sometimes tried to tell him that Yuuri didn’t remember the banquet because Viktor was just not memorable enough. On days like that, Viktor would use any excuse he had to keep Yuuri close and Yuuri would indulge him without asking questions.

Viktor wondered if Yakov could see it too when he watched them at the rink. He had caught his coach look over to them more than once, shoulders slumped just a bit more than usual, his hat pulled unusually low. Did he regret not having tried harder? Did he wonder what could have been if he hadn’t pulled back to let the silence fester between them? Viktor hoped that despite everything, Yakov had found his own way to be happy. He wanted him too, wanted him to find his sun, just like Viktor had found his.

So Viktor raised his arm and waved at Yuuri, a genuine smile lighting up his face. Because being with Yuuri felt like the shadows would never be able to reach him again.


End file.
